Traffic
by JumpingMoose
Summary: AU. Matthew was taken one day. For a decade was forced to sell his body until one event, leading him to climb higher up in the food chain. Instead of the victim he is now the criminal. Mentions of rape and human trafficking.
1. Welcome to NY

**Well hello. This is my first fic ever and I don't know if it's a good idea or not ( I may not continue if nobody wants to read it.). Please tell me any mistakes I have made. Thank you.**

**Summary: AU. Matthew was taken one day. For a decade was forced to sell his body until a big moment occurs. Instead of the victim he is now the criminal. Mentions of rape and human trafficking.**

**I do not own Hetalia**

**Chapter one: Welcome to NY**

I miss my brother Alfred dearly. We were as close as two brothers could be. Every time I look into my reflection, and look passed the grime on my body, I wonder, if he looks like this now. Many who saw us side to side told us we shared the same face. Some asked if we were twins. It wasn't us who were twins, it was our mothers. We just so happened we were fathered by the same man.

Damn that man to hell for everything for taking them away from us.

Long story short, Al's mom died via drive-by-shooting and mine tried to kill herself. Of course my mom failed but left an everlasting impression since . I still have a fear for guns. Anyway, We were sent thru a barrage of people, court, more shitty houses with ten plus kids in a single house until we had been adopted by Arthur and Francis Kirkland-Bonnefoy. At first I was scared since there was never a father figure in my life so far (Okay, I was only five then but to a small kid like me at the time it seemed like forever). Eventually, we did warm up to them. They showed kindness we hadn't felt since I was three. I kind of wonder how they lived with one another (if they still are), because needless to say, they were polar opposites. I still laugh inside when I think about some of the things that went on during some days.

For two years I was generally happy once more. I swear I was destined to to die early. A few months before I turned seven, someone called home. Later that same day, Francis and Arthur (Or should it still be Papa and Dad?) they asked us if I wanted to go see Clarissa, my mother who has fallen very sick, I ran to my room and cried. I was scared to see her. All that blood, yells and...

"Hey, you're not dead yet are you?" A man's teasing voice broke my thoughts. It took me a second to remember where I was. Ah right, my "room". Judging from the small foot wide window above me by a few feet I realized it's finally morning, thank God. Please God, if you can hear me, please give me a hour more of resting on this bed. "Hey!" The man pounded on the door. That voice... My body tensed after I realized it was him. I can feel him smirk behind that concrete door separating the two of us. Thanks, God, you came through for me again, not.

With a shallow breath I replied."N-no Sir." My throat felt rough and dry. It's been three days without food or water. I'm being punished for his doing. The fresh bruises he placed still etched in my skin leaving me less desirable to the clients thus less of a profit.

Slowly, I pushed back my pain coursing throughout my body and slowly at sat on the mattress that was once white but now was a grayish color with a few brown spots and other "stains" as you can imagine. Moments later, the latches on the door were undone and he entered. Threw at me a bottled water and a cold danish you find at those gas station stores for those on the run.

"Eat." He commanded. Oh fuck. Well I'm forced to do that later but yeah, "Eat" in his words mean, 'We are leaving now or you'll regret it later'. I learned the hard way, twice before I got the message across my head. Grabbing the food which will be considered breakfast, lunch, and perhaps dinner, I lifted myself up (my back screams), grabbed Kumajirou (my stuffed polar bear) and followed in tow.

Compared to others, I have been here a long time in the human trafficking ring and one thing is for certain, you have no idea what country they will take you next. Currently, I'm being traded off. Judging by the amount of time I stayed in the crate (like my back didn't hurt already), I guess across seas to the Americas. I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or not. At least, he's not my "owner" anymore. I now I have a fat slob as one. He has a twinkle in his eye (and a Twinkie in his hands). I grimaced. 'Well at least I only have to serve one person today.' Was my first thing that rolled in my mind. Unlike him, I was given at least a store bought sandwich, only eating the meat and anything else that may rotten by day's end not knowing if I would have food in the next day. Like him, he also thought my bear was funny (it only said "who?" or "who are you?"), so I was able to keep it. The room was better off; there was a sheet on the bed.

The bed was better too when it was "tested". Surprisingly, the fat man was gentle with me but that feeling quickly faded. He's one of those who brings false sense of security until they take it away. Jackasses, the lot of them. At least I got some information from him. It was August of 2011. One more year before the America Government declares me an adult and the same amount of time for me to live at most. It also makes nine years and three months since I saw my brother smile. I may never see it again. My new owner (which I have now dubbed "Twinkie"), unlike the previous one, made me go out to the streets unlike waiting for the clients to come to me in my room. I knew the risks of this type of prostitution. Some don't have to wear condoms, some will leave the deepest scares you have ever seen, and some will kill you and leave your body in a nearby alleyway.

"Anything goes." Twinkie said before throwing me into the night. When he left I tried to find anything to know where I was. It was somewhere in North America from he can tell by the language other streetwalkers talked. I looked into the sky. Only the brightest stars barely made it through the lights of the city.

"Hey, need some help?" I turned around to see to woman in those skimpy clothes, just enough to cover what needed to be covered. She came up to me and wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me close. I turned red and she laughed. "Let me guess, Garbanzo's new toy?"

"Uh, who-"

"The fat man with the pointy mustache."

"Oh, I call him Twinkie." At this she laughed louder. The brunette gave me a kiss and let go of me.

"I like ya already. Name's Cynthia and welcome to the Big Apple, well, close enough." My eyes widen. Luckily she did not see it as she blabbed about something. "We since I made my pay today, I'll help ya out since yer new and all." She smiled. I nodded.

"Hello New York, did you miss me? I'm back." I said to myself before walking these sex driven streets to sell my body again to those who want it.

"Did you say something?"

"No, it's nothing..."

**End of chapter**

**Don't worry Cynthia probably won't be back again.**

**Please review and tell me what you think. And thank you to anyone who has read the whole chapter. **


	2. Close to Home

**Okay here's chapter two sorry for the wait. Also, I do tend to be a bit vague at times and I hope I can resolve those in the future.**

**Alfred will show up I promise. He just won't be showing up soon.**

**And I haven't thought of it but do you prefer pairings or none at all. (Except for the one I already have.)**

**I do not own Hetalia**

**Chapter two: Close to Home**

I just learned that Cynthia was killed. It happened two days ago. I felt a small twinge tugging in my heart to mourn for her. True, I did grow to have a crush on her but in these streets, even the most experienced can fall I had seen those who tried to escape but there was something off with this whole prostitution ring I'm in. For example, any attempt to run away would be greatly punished by death afterward, the Pimps were a close nit "family" of sorts and don't let walk-ins to join, and there's always someone leading them like a gang. None of it makes sense, I mean, they acted like a deep underground society that flourishes at night and sleep by day with the exception of transportation, cleaning, and crap like that. A store doing inventory would put it in simpler terms.

I do wonder why humans can treat one another like this as if we were cattle to be raised, and sold like nothing. I have my theories but I stop as soon as I make a full conclusion to one them as they eventually lead to the day I was torn away from home. Too much for me to think about. I feel like I go insane when I do. I'm positive if it wasn't for that bear, I would've gone insane. Papa gave me that bear. It was one of those recording ones that played back anything you recorded. And for the last nine years the words that came out of the polar bear belong to my brother. Of course he doesn't sound like that anymore, maturity kicking in and all. I wonder if he still likes superheroes from those comics he begged Dad to get to him when a new issue came out. He always wanted to be the hero in our made up games,fighting evil (it was actually the neighbor's chihuahua but you get the point), and what not. I wished there was superheroes so they can save us poor souls who a forced to live like this for other's greed.

The fact I'm still selling myself here was amazing enough. I know how police worked in the States but the point in the matter was who to trust and who to tell. One wrong move and you're good as dead. Dad is ( probably 'was' by now) a detective for the NYPD. I seen some of his acquaintances but I highly doubt I want to, or will meet them here. I keep thinking to myself, why haven't I left? Twinkie not watching ( Hell, he can't even run, that fat ass). Maybe because this is where I spent all my life? A wonderful life it's been so far.

I sighed. I walked a couple streets down waiting for the clock to strike two in the morning to leave. I had already earned enough for the night and decided to just walk and help any new meat. I felt sorry for them, what can I say. I was reprimanded a few times for it. Got on the bad side on a few while others just gave me look of approval, not wanting to deal with their attitude. Twinkie didn't like that. I probably would never know.

Twinkie was somewhat bearable. He let me shower whenever I pleased and I received new clothes every couple of weeks. It did attract me to more customers, not that I tell the fat man of course or he'll bump the wage I needed to earn per day.

Only four hours until two and so far, everything was going to the same old plan. Lately, something in the pit of my stomach told me something else was going to happen.

It did. My fault actually.

My mind wonders off a few times every now and then yet I'm still aware of my surroundings. This street was mostly for drugs. So when I noticed a few people huddled together, I thought nothing of it and kept walking pass them. Long story short, I should've known one dressed better than the others.

"Well what do you know?" That all familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. Damn it was Rodger, the lucid man. He goes by many names depending where he is. Here is the first rule of "Rodger's Rules": Never say no to Rodger or do you want to swim in the bay by morning? No thanks. I sighed inwardly before walking towards him. If this was a school, Rodger would be the strange superintendent of the district coming to visit and deciding to pick on a student just to mess with him and just to see how's life. When I was close enough, he came, casually placing his arm around my shoulder and dragged me close to him, like were buddies. I tensed a bit. "So I hear you're the one causing a roar in my hood huh?" I held back the urge to roll my eyes. 'It was only a spat between one of the pimps that's all. I swear!' I wanted to say, dripped in sarcasm but I bit my tongue not to do so. I just looked to the ground at his shoes not saying a word.

"How about you come with me tonight? The black haired man asked out of the blue. I froze. By now everyone else fled, leaving me with the ass. Frankly I don't like him. I just looked at him curiously, a look I perfected many years ago. I wonder if he bought it?

"Come on there's something I have been meaning to show ya." Hmm, guess he did. Wait, he wanted to show me something? Ha! His dick probably. God, I wanted to roll my eyes again but refrained once more. I wonder how long it took him to think of that. I wonder what the others said about his cheesy lines...

Well if one ever came back that is.

'Damn, I'm going to die tonight.' Was my final ultimatum. So what if I cut my life a few years short; my mind still can't comprehend the situation I'm in. With my early trauma, I really never fully developed properly. By that I guess, not able to process what I'm facing but pushing it back into my mind until it's over. I looked at him again and there was no hope to persuade him not to go. Reluctantly, I nodded. He smirked.

Walking to my death I am.

Deciding that the stained concrete was a better picture, I didn't clearly see the looks that others gave me-Well, first they looked at Rodger, then at the poor sap (Read: ME) following him. It took about ten minutes to get to his car. Of course. Like in New York fashion, Rodger drove a black car. He opened the car by pressing a button on, uhh- that small square thing where one button can practically do everything (I never really remembered what you called that). I got in the backseat since it was another of "Rodger's Rules" not to sit on the passenger's side of the car.

Lather, rinse, repeat, and don't you forget it.

He drove for twenty minutes and in those twenty minutes, he dug into his black leather jacket with a white fur trim and handed me a few pills, one different from the other. I had no choice but to take them. Soon after, he pulled into to the back of an alley. We got out and realized we were somewhere in a city, not in NYC. By now the drugs made me feel lightheaded and dizzy. I looked at my surroundings. My vision was currently not that great, even before the pills but, I could make out a few letters and designs that were viewable from the alley .Then my heart stopped for a second when I looked out to one store I saw from the alley. At first I thought it was the pills affecting my mind to hallucinate but no, it was real.

It was a single pizzeria. The same pizzeria that Al, Papa, Dad, and I went to! What were the odds! I knew where I was. The police station is not far from here, I remembered. Maybe Dad still works-

"You're not thinking of running away are you?" I felt something metal poking the back of my head. I bit my lip, holding back my tears I wasn't aware were going to fall. So close yet no cigar.

"No, no. Just a bit hungry that's all." I made an excuse. It wasn't a lie, the fat bastard always under fed me. Rodger didn't say a word before opening an old, iron door (When did that get there?) from the side of a building and ushering me to get into inside. Did I really want to leave? What if there's nothing waiting for me there? It was something I wanted to know; something I feared but could not turn away the opportunity if I had the chance. I loved my family regardless of the time I spent with them. I just want to sit down on a nice bed again and no one demanding for sex. I want to-no. I should stop, my headache is growing worse.

As I suspected, it's dark with the moonlight shinning into the cracks and windows of a warehouse, perhaps? I don't know. Rodger locked the door behind him. Those pills were powerful. I can feel myself stagger every step I take. My vision blurred blending the shades of gray into one mush of gray. By now I wasn't paying attention to where I was being dragged to, only remembering another old, rusty door, the voice of a woman, cheap perfume, the sudden but faint sound of 'hip' music (or whatever teens thought was cool), coming from above, and the smell of marijuana. I was taken somewhere with the room walls were purple and I felt someone talk to me. Not Rodger, the voice was way too deep even for him. The only thing the pills didn't take care of was my ability to reproduce replies. That's the reason I never take drugs, it opens me up and I actually say what I want to say. The long scar on the side of my hip can attest to that. I was going to die anyway, so it doesn't matter anymore.

I haven't had the slightest clue onto the Proceedings afterwards. But I did find out I wasn't going to be with Twinkie anymore and I still lived, which was a good bonus.

Oh yeah, I rose in rank from being a prostitute to a working with a 'bottom girl'.

_Thinking back...How in the hell did I make myself a pimp, I'll never know._

**End of Chapter two.**

**It's hard to find accurate information so I have to use Wiki until further notice. **

**This turned out different than my original plan. What do you guys think of it? Like to share your thoughts? Sorry in advance for my spelling. Would anybody like to point them out?**


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